


Star Jumper

by FangirlFiles



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: But this is not a romance based story at all, Coming of Age, Genderfluid Remy, M/M, Star Jumper, Steampunk, They're basically space bees, Trans Deceit, Treasure Planet vibes, eventual sleepxiety, ish, sci fi, space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 04:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18793165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlFiles/pseuds/FangirlFiles
Summary: Scientists think that stars are giant balls of gas, but they’re not. They’re made of hundreds of billions of tiny dust particles. They shimmer and glow, but they also destroy. Virgil has seen the bubbling blisters, the skin sloughing off, and in the worst cases, the death. Rule number one: don’t get lost. Rule number two: never, ever touch the dust.Virgil is a Star Jumper. He collects stardust and sells it to Roman, the apprentice glassblower who infuses stardust into his designs, and Remy, the flashy and loud drug addict who makes goggles for them. He gives a portion to Logan, who produces high quality tech in return for the opportunity to study the real stars. Then he returns to Patton, the doctor who takes care of him and his fellow Star Jumpers, and who has become his brother.This is the only job that he wants, but he has another destiny waiting for him. He is being trained to become the new leader of the Star Jumpers, a job that he knows he isn’t cut out for. When the one thing Virgil trusts most is torn away from him, he must learn to live with the guilt of his failure and the knowledge that something is very wrong. He has to step up and prove himself before humanity destroys everything that he loves.





	Star Jumper

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings (for the entire story, not chapter by chapter): Abusive father, drug use, weapons, character death, injuries/blood/gore, self injury, panic attack. Will add more if I think of them, or if someone alerts me to ones that should be tagged.

Day had turned to night about an hour ago and Virgil laid in bed listening to the sounds of the house. The windows popped and the floors creaked as the structure cooled in the absence of the summer sun, making his heart lurch in his chest at every sudden noise. Normally, those sounds brought him comfort and helped him to relax. They were signs of another day coming to a close, bringing him closer to the day that he would get out of this house and this life. Tonight though, every sound was a threat. He had to decipher which sounds were from the structure, harmless, and which were from its occupants, dangerous.

Footsteps had gone into the far bedroom a while ago, but he wasn’t sure who they belonged to. If his father was the one that had gone to bed, he would be safe. His mother probably wouldn’t notice, even if he walked right past her. The blank stare that she always wore wouldn’t shift for him regardless of the situation. He knew that well by now. But if the footsteps that he heard belonged to her, then that left his father downstairs. He would be walking into the jaws of the beast. He couldn’t bring himself to take that chance and move yet.

His nerves made his muscles ache and his skin break out into a cold sweat. He wasn’t ready for this, but he didn’t think he would ever be. There was never going to be a right time for him to run. It had to be now. The window beside him settled with a snapping sound and he flinched with a painful clamping of his jaw. He slowly calmed as his brain identified the sound, despite another part of his mind trying to tell him that it was his father coming up to stop him. He didn’t have time for his anxiety to hold him back this time, he had to go while the house’s creaking was still providing a cover for the inevitable sounds of his escape.

He held his breath and slowly pulled the blankets away from his body, trying not to move any more than he had to. The cold air hit his bare legs and arms, raising goosebumps over his sweat soaked skin and making him shiver. He would have worn his clothes to bed to make the process faster, but he couldn’t make excuses for that if his father came into his room. He was walking a fine line of risk, one that kept getting thinner as the seconds ticked by.

Exhaling as quietly as he could, he edged his leg to hang off the side of the bed. Sporadic clicks of bedsprings sounded beneath him and each one made his throat tighten painfully. His father probably couldn’t hear such quiet sounds from the rest of the house, but to him they were thunderously loud. He slid his hands underneath the small of his back to counter his weight before slowly pushing himself upward and sliding off the edge onto the balls of his feet. His toes curled into the plush carpet as he lowered his weight onto his heels, wrapping his arms around his midsection and shivering.

He stared at the space under his door, waiting for the light from the hallway to illuminate the floor. At this point he could pretend that he just needed to go to the bathroom. It would get him into trouble for sure, but that was manageable, an everyday occurrence. He gave himself a couple of minutes to run through the script of his excuse in his head as he waited, but the only light came from the stars outside his window. They bathed his room in a comforting shade of midnight blue. Slowly relaxing his arms, he stared at the way the starlight looked on his skin, covering him in a thin veil of protection. He had to keep moving.

Everything that he needed was already prepared. He knelt down and pulled his messenger bag out from under the bed. Jeans, his favorite hoodie, and a pair of socks inside of his quietest soled shoes sat on top of the bag. He pulled on the clothing piece by piece, the rustling fabric loud in his ears. He was past the point of no return now. There were no more excuses he could give. He pressed his thumb against the teeth of his hoodie zipper as he moved it upward, silencing the metal as it was pulled snug around him.

The bag was already packed. A few articles of clothing sat at the bottom concealing protein bars and old Pop Tarts that he had been storing in the bottom of his sock drawer for the past month. His cellphone, charger, and earbuds sat in an outer pocket. The cell service would be cut off as soon as they realized he was gone, but he would still have the music. He had all of the money he could get his hands on tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Most importantly, he had his astronomy book nestled safely between layers of clothing, where the edges would be safe from bending. It was the only thing in this house that he cared about, given to him by his mother before her eyes glazed over and the light of the stars didn’t shine in them anymore. He pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder, then lifted the flap to double check that the book was still there. It was, of course.

He knew he was taking too long, but he couldn’t resist taking one last look around his far too large bedroom. There were so many things in it, bought with his father’s corporate greed, but there was nothing that he would miss. Everything that he cared about was in his bag, and it wasn’t much. He would have his map of the stars. That was all he needed. He had no desire to hold onto memories of this place.

With his left hand gripping the strap of his bag for security, he walked on his toes to the door. He pressed an ear against the wood as his fingertips brushed against the cold metal knob, listening for any sounds of an ambush waiting on the other side. There was nothing. He pulled the door open and stepped into enemy territory.

There were too many open spaces on his way, a long hallway with wide windows on one side, then across the balcony and down the stairs. There would be nowhere to hide if anyone came his way. He looked out the large windows at the stars above, thankful that it was such a clear night. He needed their light to guide his way. His feet stepped in the patches of starlight as he crept forward, staying near the wall to avoid any chance of creaking floorboards. He made his way down the stairs. The sound of his hand dragging along the stair rail grated like sandpaper in his ears. He was halfway down the stairs and the front door was in sight, his reflection staring back at him in the glass pattern.

“So, you finally got the balls to do it.”

Electricity shot through Virgil’s body, burning and numbing at the same time. Hot acid churned in his stomach. His eyes stared past his reflection and to the light of the full moon, not daring to move. The freedom of the stars was so close, but not even they could help him now.

The recliner in the family room let out a high pitch squeal as the weight of his father left it, footsteps coming closer until they stopped directly beside his way of escape. He was only a shadow on the left side of Virgil’s peripheral vision, darker than an empty night sky and significantly more menacing.

“Fifteen years I’ve had to put up with your bullshit,” the form said, the edges morphing as limbs moved, suit fabric scraping together. His arms were crossed, meaning either anger or boredom. The tone implied both. “Well come on then, get down here and take one last look at me.”

Virgil swallowed the bile rising in his throat, the taste poison against his tongue as his legs lurched forward and brought him down the stairs one step at a time. His shoes hit the hardwood floor at the bottom of the stairs, signaling for him to stop. He could reach out and touch the door in front of him, but he didn’t move.

A hand gripped his jaw hard enough to bruise, pulling his gaze up to finally look at the man. His dark brown eyes were cold, his mouth twisted into a scowl. His whispers felt like needles against Virgil’s skin.

“I gave you everything. Money, opportunity, this beautiful house. I would have thrown you out years ago, but your mother still wanted you. She isn’t here now, so let me tell you this. If I ever see you again, I will kill you. Do you hear me?” The hand on his jaw tightened painfully and shook, rattling the teeth in his mouth. “I _said,_ do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” The words tumbled out of his mouth; old habit laced with fear.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

The hand released him. The door opened. Virgil staggered down the stone steps and down the long, winding driveway, the sound of his shoes scraping along the ground keeping his feet moving. The stars seemed to brighten as he left the light of his old house and before he knew it, he was running. They would lead him home.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been a year in the making, and I have worked hard on it for so long. I truly hope that you enjoy it, and that you can see the development that occurs in these characters as they move through their lives. I am so passionate about this story and it means so much to me. I truly hope that you love it as much as I do.
> 
> That being said, it is not actually all written yet. It is just very meticulously planned out. I may come back to previous chapters and edit them, but I will let you know if that is the case at the beginning of a new chapter so that you can go back and read the edits if you wish.


End file.
